


End of Shift

by morning_coffee



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Brutal Throat Fucking, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Gang Rape, Humiliation, M/M, Object Insertion, Objectification, Police Brutality, Prostitution, Threats, implied fisting, inappropriate use of a nightstick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morning_coffee/pseuds/morning_coffee
Summary: Jake figured the guy was an easy trick. It took him a while to realize just how in over his head he really was.
Relationships: Male Prostitute/Cops Who Arrested Him
Comments: 8
Kudos: 181
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	End of Shift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



> Thanks to my beta R.!

Jake figured the guy was an easy trick. A bit awkward and out of place in the dive bar, clearly not a regular client. Not familiar enough with the scene to notice that what Jake was asking for was about twice as much as the usual price for a blowjob, and too laid-back to raise a fuss about it. He was good-looking enough that sucking his cock wouldn't exactly be a hardship either.

There was a spring in Jake's step as he led them out the back entrance and down the stairs. 

"Step into my office, baby," he joked.

The alley behind the bar was always deserted this time of night. The security camera above the door had been broken for ages now, and the owner of the bar was way too cheap to have it replaced. Jake often took clients out here where they were safe from prying eyes. Not that he minded an audience, if the price was right, but it was nothing he'd suggest the first time with a new guy.

His client chuckled at the quip.

Under the dim glare of the dirty street lamps, his hair and beard were a deeper copper than they had looked back inside and the angles of his face seemed harsher, the air of wholesomeness he'd had about him earlier wiped out all at once.

"Nice place," he commented laconically with a customary look around before fixing Jake with a stare, a strange kind of gleam to his eyes that Jake could have sworn hadn't been there before. "Guess you want your money first?"

Without waiting for an answer, he handed Jake a fifty, like he was all too eager to part from his cash. Or maybe just eager to get this show on the road. Jake didn't mind. The faster they'd get done, the faster he could pick up someone else, maybe actually make it home before sunrise for once.

He pocketed the bill and sunk down to his knees, a practiced movement that he knew looked more graceful than it was. Leaning forward, he rubbed his cheek against the guy's groin, feeling his cock twitch and grow harder underneath the rough denim.

A hand settled on his head, fingers carding through Jake's hair and tangling in the unruly strands without gentleness. It was just the right kind of rough, the way Jake liked it.

"You're a bit of a tease, aren't you?" 

Jake looked up from underneath his lashes, playing coy. "It ain't teasing if I follow through." 

He lingered for a moment, pressing his face more firmly against the growing bulge and enjoying the heaviness of it, the heat seeping through the fabric, the way it was becoming slightly damp already. 

It was true: Jake _did_ get a kick out of the teasing. Getting to see the evidence of how much he affected the men he went to his knees for was his second-favorite part, next to the money. The hitch in their breath, the unconcealed desire when they looked at him, how quickly they got hard. It was one hell of a power trip and yeah, Jake was into it. Who wouldn't be?

Pulling back, he sat on his heels and reached for the belt in front of him. The buckle clanked when he opened it, and the leather slid smoothly through his fingers.

Before he could get any further, the hand that had been toying with his hair moved, curving along the side of his neck. The thumb brushed over his lower lip, pressing down, and Jake was just about to open his mouth to let it in when he found himself being pulled up.

He stumbled to his feet, confused, hands falling away from the belt.

"What are you—" 

He didn't get any further. The fingers tightened, and then things were happening too fast for him to grasp what was going on. He was spun around and pushed towards the brick wall, his arms twisted behind his back. 

The sense of being trapped hit him before the actual discomfort registered: the bricks chafing his cheek, the strain in his arms. He instinctively tried to fight, struggling against the hold. But he was too slow, and the body pressing him into the wall was too strong. A sharp flash of pain shot into his shoulders as the pressure on his arms increased. 

A clink of metal, handcuffs unforgivingly tight around his wrists. 

"You're under arrest." The guy—shit, the fucking _cop_ didn't even sound out of breath, his tone infuriatingly mild. "I'd have thought someone like you could sniff out a cop by a mile, but I guess you were just too hungry for cock." 

He rubbed his groin against Jake's ass, like he was trying to make a point, the open belt buckle clattering at the motion. 

"The fuck?! This is fucking entrapment," Jake spat. 

He couldn't believe this was happening to him. It wasn't like he was dumb enough to think pigs weren't breaking the rules all the fucking time, but that asshole had a point. Jake really should have smelled a rat earlier when his price had been accepted without grumbling or any attempt to negotiate. Things that sounded too good to be real usually _were_ too fucking good to be real.

He was forced backwards and twisted around again so they were face to face. 

"Oh yeah? Guess you can always hand in a complaint later," the cop quipped. If anything, he seemed amused at the idea of disciplinary action coming his way. 

Jake's anger flared up at the casual dismissal. The fury and the overwhelming sense of helplessness made the blood rush to his face, and he felt his cheeks flush and his pulse beat fast against his temple. "I will! I'm gonna get your ass fired, you fucking asshole. You're gonna regret this, I swear, I will—"

He never saw the backhand coming. 

One moment he was getting in the cop's face, all righteous anger and stupid empty threats spilling from his mouth. Next thing he knew, pain was erupting all over the left side of his face, his cheek stinging from the slap. 

Between the force of the impact and the surprise, he lost his footing and went down, floundering against one of the old barrels next to the back door. His hip slammed into the hard, wooden edge and he couldn't contain a pained yelp, his bound hands clawing for purchase behind him so he wouldn't fall.

He didn't, but only because the cop was right there, too close for comfort, pushing Jake against the barrel and holding him up by the chin. His earlier smirk had vanished, the humor drained from his face. 

"If I were you, I'd be very, very careful about what was coming out of that pretty mouth of yours, buddy. Or someone might think you're more trouble than you're worth."

His fingers were digging brutally into Jake's jaw, their grip so tight that Jake couldn't twist his head away. There was nowhere to look but right into the cold blue of those eyes, hard as steel, and fear clawed up his throat, like a monster eating him up from the inside. For the first time since things started going south, Jake realized just how deeply in over his head he really was.

"Look, man, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm not going to say anything. Just, please, can't we work this out somehow? I'll just give you your money back and you can—"

The grip became punishing, tight like a vice against his cheeks as it cut off his pleas. "Are you trying to bribe me?"

Jake frantically shook his head. Not that he'd be above bribery if it got him out of his predicament, but judging by the way the cop was glaring at him, he didn't think that was going to be an option. He seemed to be running out of those anyway. 

"No. No, of course not. It would just be your own money I'd give you back. Like nothing happened. And I mean, it didn't, right?" The cop didn't look convinced, so Jake pressed on. "I could help you out. I know things. Who's selling drugs around here and shit like that. You guys always need informants, right?"

Maybe that was why he was arrested in the first place. It made sense. Why else would a cop go through all that trouble to entrap him? No one cared about some small-time hustler selling his ass. 

A sound behind him made Jake jump, and both their heads snapped towards the noise. 

When the door to the bar was pushed opened with a metallic squeal, relief washed over Jake so fast that he was almost giddy with it. The cop wasn't going to risk beating him up or pulling some kind of stunt with a witness walking in on them. Maybe, if Jake played his cards right and the new arrival was someone he knew, he could even turn the situation around so he'd walk free. People liked him around here; he'd made plenty of friends since he'd moved into the city and started hanging out around the block. It was gonna be fine. He was gonna be alright.

A burly man stepped out of the door, looking around with a frown, and Jake was just about to call out to him for help when he fixed the cop with a glare and huffed. "The fuck's taking you so long, Brenner? Shift's over. I'm getting tired of sitting in the car waiting for you to finish up."

Oh _shit_ , no. 

Jake's stomach plummeted when he realized who the newcomer was. There would be no help coming for him that way.

"I'm just teaching this little cock-sucking punk here some manners." 

As if to make a point, Brenner slapped Jake again. It didn't have the same force as the earlier blow, but it hit the same spot, and the sting made his eyes water.

The second cop skipped down the stairs and stepped closer, his eyes shifting towards Jake, like he was noticing him for the first time. Jake could only guess what kind of picture he must have made, red-cheeked and roughed up, his face marked up with fresh bruises and his back bent in a brutal curve against the barrel.

"Jesus." The guy's eyes widened. 

He was clearly taken aback by the scene in front of him, and for a moment, Jake almost hoped that he'd stop Brenner. But when he came closer, the look in his eyes made Jake's stomach drop. It was appreciative. Appreciative and _predatory_. 

"That really is one pretty cock-sucking mouth," he said, reaching out to wipe his fingers against Jake's lips with enough force to make the tender skin drag painfully across his teeth. "You sure know how to pick them."

Brenner laughed. It would have been a nice laugh, Jake thought bitterly, if it hadn't been at his expense.

"You wanna sample him, Dodge? Be my guest. He was gagging for my cock earlier. I'm sure he can't wait to have his mouth stuffed properly." 

Brenner's suggestion was so casual, it took a moment for his words to sink in. Once they did, Jake's outrage temporarily gained upper hand over his fear. "You can't fucking do this!" 

"I paid for it, didn't I? Overpaid, in fact. Only fair that we take what we bought." 

He raised an eyebrow and looked at Jake like he'd just made a reasonable point, like he expected Jake to nod and say 'Yeah, sure, officer, when you put it like this, it totally makes sense. Go right ahead and stick your dicks into my mouth.'

The other cop— Dodge, Brenner had said, right? And what kind of name was that, anyway? For the first time since Dodge arrived on the scene, he addressed Jake. "Look, son, the way I see it, you got a choice here. You be a good little whore, you let us fill up your greedy little holes and you thank us for it. Or we're gonna do this the hard way. You're gonna get fucked either way. Only difference is how pretty your face is still gonna be once we're done with you."

He sounded too goddamn conversational, like they were sitting at the bar together, negotiating payment over a couple of beers. But Jake knew the threats were real; he could see it in the way Dodge looked at him, and his cheek was still aching from Brenner's earlier burst of violence. He wasn't keen on getting himself beaten up, and if he had to play nice to get out of this shit, then he could do that.

He licked his lips, an unconscious nervous gesture that he only realized he was doing when he felt Dodge's eyes shift down towards his mouth. So he played it up a little, let his tongue linger on his bottom lip. "Okay, fine. Whatever you want, officer. You want my mouth? I'll give you the best fucking blowjob you ever had, and then you'll let me go, alright?"

The sharp sound of Brenner's laughter made him wince. 

"Look at that punk, trying to bargain with us." He leaned in close, his breath hot against Jake's ear. "Newsflash, buddy, you're not in a position to negotiate. We're gonna do whatever the fuck we want with you, whether you like it or not. And if we feel like booking you afterwards, we will. If you're really lucky, we'll just leave your naked ass out here in the dirt. Or maybe we'll call in the next shift, let Boreman and Hunter have a go at you. And you know what? There's not a fucking thing you can do about it." 

He reached down between their bodies and grabbed Jake's cock through his pants, squeezing it. "This belongs to us tonight, and the sooner you get that into that pretty head of yours, the better."

His hand was rough, and the panic and terror Jake couldn't shake should have been a boner-killer, but his cock didn't seem to care, jumping at the stimulation. 

Brenner didn't miss it, of course. "Look at that! The little slut is into this." He released his grip and delivered a small slap to the exact spot where Jake's pants had started tenting. Jake yelped. "You like it rough? You're in for a treat."

Jake was shaking his head in protest, not that it made any difference. 

Strong hands at his waist hoisted him up. Then he was pushed down with his back stretched out on top of the barrel, the edges digging painfully into his bound arms. He'd been fucked here before, across this exact same barrel, but he'd been on his stomach then with a jacket bunched up underneath him to cushion the wood. It was a different story now. It would have been an unpleasant position even without the handcuffs, the surface too small to lie down on it, his shoulders and head hanging off the edge. That was the point, he realized, when he watched Dodge step close to his face. 

The world felt contorted and weird from upside down, and Dodge's large, thick-fingered hands looked even more massive from this angle. He pulled his cock from his pants and gave it a couple of strokes, standing close enough that the head bopped against the side of Jake's face at every upstroke.

His other hand reached for Jake, seizing his hair and pulling him down so his head was bent backwards as far as it could. The angle strained his neck and the grip was so harsh that it made Jake's scalp burn.

"Open up."

Jake let his lips fall open and tried to relax his jaw, but he still choked when Dodge pushed down, feeding him his cock at a steady, unforgiving pace that didn't allow Jake to adjust to the girth. 

It tasted of soap and sweat and stale piss. Jake gagged and retched when it hit the back of his throat, instinctively trying to move his head, but there was no shaking off Dodge's hold. Dodge didn't even pause, just kept forcing his cock down Jake's throat inch by endless inch until his balls hit Jake's nose. 

He couldn't breathe. His eyes were watering and he started thrashing around, but Dodge's grip gave him hardly any room to move and there was a hard, ungiving weight across Jake's chest, holding him down. He ineffectively kicked out his legs, hitting only empty air. 

The cock in his mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, impossibly large. Cutting off his air. Suffocating him. The panic was overwhelming, but it was snuffed out by the lightheadedness that settled over him, the almost pleasant wooziness when the edges of his vision started darkening.

Then Dodge pulled back out, and Jake gasped, taking in gulps of sweet air. He felt hot and cold at once, his throat aching. 

The relief was short-lived. He barely got a few seconds; the tightening of the fingers against his scalp was the only warning he got and then the cock forced its way down his throat again. This time, at least, Jake was prepared for it when it triggered his gag reflex and relentlessly pushed past it.

"Oh shit, that's good," Dodge rumbled. 

He didn't choke Jake for quite so long this time, lifting himself up until the tip of his cock was resting between Jake's lips just long enough so Jake could take a couple of shaky breaths around it before he plunged down again. And again, and again, an exhaustingly slow, steady rhythm.

"Kid's got a throat like a hoover." Dodge sounded impressed and for a moment, Jake felt absurdly, stupidly proud.

Dodge pulled out and dragged the red, swollen head of his cock all over Jake's face, smearing warm, sticky precum over his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids. "Wanna give him a go?"

"Nah, I got another idea," Brenner said. 

Jake had almost forgotten that he was there, but he was abruptly reminded of it when he felt hands open his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs so they tangled around his ankles. A muttered curse, then Brenner pulled off Jake's shoes, chafing Jake's heels when they wouldn't come off fast enough. The shoes made a dull thud as they fell to the ground. The pants followed suit, and then he was naked from the waist down. 

Brenner took hold of his ankles and spread his legs wide, stepping between them. The clammy night air raised goosebumps on Jake's skin, and the acute awareness of the vulnerability of his position hit him like a punch to the gut. 

"Kick me and you're gonna regret it," Brenner warned. 

Jake only nodded mutely, his nose bobbing against the underside of Dodge's cock. It gave a little spasm, more precum dripping over Jake's mouth.

He felt Dodge reaching forward, and the uncomfortable weight that had been on Jake's chest lifted. A phallic shape of heavy black plastic appeared in his line of vision, and he only realized now what they'd held him down with before. It was one of those thick, blunt-edged nightsticks with a side handle. 

Dodge nudged Jake's lips with it. "Go on, suck it," he ordered. 

It felt massive and solid, and Jake didn't even want to imagine the kind of damage they could do with it. The fear must have shown on his face, because Dodge laughed. "Relax. All you got to do is get it good and wet, and it won't hurt."

"Not much anyway," Brenner said. His fingers were rubbing along the creak of Jake's ass, imposing a lazy kind of pressure on his hole without bothering to push in. "Depends on how loose you are."

Oh fuck, they were going to—Jake opened his mouth to protest or plead with them, anything to make them stop, and Dodge pushed the tip of the baton between his lips. 

"That's it," he said, almost praising. "Slick it up good. Just pretend that it's my dick."

At least he wasn't forcing that fucking thing down his throat like he'd done with his cock, Jake thought. 

The solid, unyielding shape of it pressed against the soft inner skin of his mouth and lips, banging against his teeth, and Jake desperately tried to get as much saliva around it as he could. But his mouth felt dry and achingly sore, and he knew whatever wetness he could gather wouldn't suffice. 

"That's enough." Brenner's voice cut through the air like a whiplash.

Jake jumped at the words, giving the stick a last few quick and sloppy licks before Dodge pulled it back. A string of saliva stretched between the tip of the stick and Jake's tongue for a moment until it tore off, dripping down on his chin.

Dodge handed the baton over to Brenner. From his position, Jake couldn't see him, but he felt him shift as he moved, his jeans chafing against Jake's naked legs and his fingers cold on Jake's skin as his thighs were pushed further apart. 

The hard, smooth end the of nightstick trailed along his ass, spreading the cheeks apart. Brenner let it slide from Jake's tailbone to his balls and back again, rubbing against his perineum. When it lingered over Jake's hole, the remains of the spit that had been coating it were already cool and rapidly drying. Jake had prepped himself when he left the house earlier tonight, but that was hours ago and there wouldn't be much lube left by now.

He tried to brace himself for the breach, but Brenner was only teasing his hole, lazily pushing against it without intent.

"Look at me."

It wasn't a tease or a suggestion; Brenner's tone implied that he wouldn't like it if Jake disobeyed. He tried to raise his head, but he just didn't have the strength to lift himself up. Dodge's massive, paw-like hand grabbed him by the neck and forced his shoulders up. Jake's aching muscles protested the manhandling, but he was almost grateful for the assist.

A shiver ran down his spine when he met Brenner's gaze. His eyes were narrowed, and the satisfied gleam in the stare he fixed Jake with made him want to _squirm_. For a moment, Jake's attention shifted down to the white-knuckled grip Brenner had on the handle of the nightstick, before Brenner clicked his tongue in admonition, making Jake's gaze snap back up. 

"Good boy. I think you earned a reward."

When Brenner started moving his arm, Jake caught the movement out of the corner of his eyes and kept perfectly still. 

He held his breath as the pressure against his hole increased, trying his best to make himself relax despite the overwhelming discomfort and the helpless dread. The stick kept sliding away. It wasn't going to work, Jake thought, half-hysterically, as Brenner pushed harder. He was too tense and the baton was too wide and too dry and it wasn't going to fit. 

He only realized that he'd said all that aloud when the cops laughed. Dodge padded his cheek condescendingly. "Don't worry, son, it's gonna fit just fine. Your tight little hole is made for this."

Jake tried to shake his head, but Dodge still had him in an iron hold. "Please. At least lube it up a bit."

Brenner smacked his ass with his flat hand, forceful enough to make it sting. "What did I tell you about trying to negotiate?" He leaned forward and spit a glob of saliva on Jake's ass, spreading it around with the tip of the baton. "That's all the lube you're gonna get."

He pressed the nightstick in harder, an uncomfortable, insistent pressure Jake couldn't escape. He bit his lip, but he couldn't hold back the unhappy little sounds he was making. And then, at last, the stick pushed past the resistance. 

Jake groaned at the initial breach. 

It felt massive. The hard, rigid material made it seem even bigger than it really was. And still, Brenner forced it further and further into him, holding Jake's eyes the entire time. He took in his reactions like a hawk, like Jake's terror and his pain were more interesting to him than the fucking.

Jake wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Couldn't do anything but lie there and watch the dark thrill on that sadistic bastard's face as he slowly speared Jake with the nightstick. 

"That's it," Dodge said at his ear. "Take it like a good whore."

Brenner chuckled. "You should see how his ass swallows the stick. Greedy little fucker." 

With a twist of his wrist, he angled the baton upward, and it brushed hard against Jake's prostate. 

Jake gasped. It felt—Too much. A sense of pressure, like his body wanted to burst apart. Pleasure, so sharp it was almost painful, cutting through his panic and discomfort. His cock, which had wilted when Dodge had choked him with his cock, started stirring again, hungry for stimulation, like it didn't give a fuck that Jake didn't want any of this.

When the nightstick started pulling back, Jack couldn't stop himself from whining. 

The cops laughed again. "Hear that? I think he's asking for more," Dodge said.

"Happy to oblige." With a wink and a grin, Brenner worked the nightstick back inside him. And out again. And back in. 

It went easier and easier each time, as Jake's body stopped fighting the intrusion until he was loose enough that it was a smooth glide, sinking in deeply like it belonged. Brenner kept twisting and angling it, as if he wanted to explore every inch of Jake's insides, nudging his prostate over and over again until Jake's cock was hard as a rock and his breaths were coming in short bursts, his panting fogging the air in front of his face. He wanted to come, but it wasn't quite enough, the stimulation too brief and uneven, and every time the pleasure ebbed off, the reality of the situation intruded like an icy shower.

They kept talking. A running commentary of how well he was taking it, how greedy he was for it, how tight his ass was. 

Jake tuned it out as good as he could. They weren't addressing him, talking _about him_ rather than to him, like he wasn't even there. Fuck them. As long as they were treating him like some kind of blow-up doll, at least he didn't have to answer them.

He focused on the elusive pleasure instead, the degrading comments barely registering at the back of his mind until Brenner said, "Do you think he can take both the stick and a cock?"

Fucking hell, no!

"Worth a try," Dodge said.

"Wait, no, you can't—"

Brenner snapped his wrist, slamming the baton in so hard Jake almost whited out. "I thought we established that you're not gonna tell us what we can and cannot do."

Leaving the baton where it was, buried so deep in Jake's ass that he thought he could feel the edge digging against his belly from the inside, Brenner stood straighter and pulled his pants open. He guided his cock towards Jake's already stretched hole, nudging at the rim. His cockhead felt blunt and slippery, smearing precum all over Jake's sore, abused skin. 

"Please don't."

He was shaking his head, terrified, but Brenner ignored him. He reached down and pushed two fingers in next to the baton, pulling Jake's hole further open. It hurt, enough that Jake would have lost his erection if it hadn't been for Brenner's other hand wrapping around Jake's cock, jerking him roughly.

He sobbed, overwhelmed by the sensations and the seesaw of conflicting emotions.

It momentarily felt like a relief when Dodge let go of his neck and his head sagged down, except not seeing what was going on was almost worse than watching the sadistic glint in Brenner's eyes as he tormented him.

It didn't take long until the fingers disappeared and Brenner lined up his cock with the nightstick, forcing it inside. Jake's abused hole stretched around him and it was too fucking much, the burn almost unbearable. It felt like being torn apart. With every little thrust of Brenner's cock, the baton was moving too, its hard weight shifting around uncomfortably, rubbing against Jake's insides. All the while, Brenner's hand didn't stop moving up and down Jake's cock, keeping it hard and making Jake balance the knife-edge of arousal. 

It was like he was watching himself from the outside, like his body wasn't his own anymore. He felt tears leaking from his eyes, felt his breath coming in rags, felt hazy from too much sensory input. 

His eyes had closed and he was just riding out the sensations when a hand slid into his hair and angled his head to the side. "Come on, open for me. You know the drill."

Jake didn't fight it. He just let Dodge slide his cock back into his mouth, let it choke him as Brenner started drilling his ass, picking up a fast, punishing rhythm.

He hung between them like a broken rag doll as they worked him over from both ends, fucking him ruthlessly, making him gag and gasp for air and whine at every slam against his over-sensitized prostate, at every drag of fingers against his leaking cock.

Dodge came first, spilling down Jake's throat, holding his cock there for a long moment until the lack of air made Jake drowsy. 

He felt Dodge wipe himself off in Jake's hair, but he couldn't muster up the energy to care, not when Brenner was still filling him up to the breaking point, hammering into him without mercy and jerking him off with a rough grip. It seemed to take forever until he finally spilled inside Jake with an angry shout. He slammed home, balls-deep, jarring the nightstick and striping Jake's insides with hot cum. 

It hurt when he pulled out, hurt even more when he wedged the nightstick free, the new friction leaving Jake's tender flesh aching. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to chase his own climax, that slip of pleasure to make all of this bearable, but Brenner's hand was already falling away from his cock. 

A broken sob tore from Jake's mouth. "Please—"

"I think he wants something, Brenner."

The sound of heavy footfalls on asphalt, followed by a casual little slap against his cock that almost made Jake scream with _painpleasureneedfrustration_ , his nerve ends on fire. 

He looked up to find Brenner standing at his side. "Ask for it. _Nicely._ "

Condescension dripped from his tone, and fuck, Jake hated him. He'd despised people before: his father, his teachers at school, some of the sad fucks he pretended to enjoy going on his knees for. But not like this. He had never felt such a visceral, bone-deep hatred before.

Brenner raised an eyebrow. He flicked his fingers against the underside of Jake's cock again. "I'm waiting." 

"Please, let me come. Oh fuck, just do it." The words were spilling from Jake's lips as if someone had pulled them out by a string. "Please, Sir."

Behind him, Dodge laughed. But it didn't matter, because Brenner's hand wrapped around his cock, pulling him off with just the right kind of pressure, fingertips brushing at his balls on the downstroke. It barely took ten seconds until Jake was shooting all over his hand. It felt like a punch to the gut, like the climax was wrung out of him by force, strain and exhaustion rather than relief. 

He let his head drop back and breathed in deep, cool air prickling in his nose and down his lungs like tiny needles. 

"See, when you're a good boy for us, we'll treat you right," Dodge told him amicably.

Jake heard a rustle and turned his head towards Brenner, hoping he might be getting out the keys for the handcuffs to release him. 

But it wasn't keys he was fishing out of his pocket. It was a single latex glove – shiny and black, clearly not regulation police gear. He slipped it onto his right hand, wiggling his fingers inside. The latex stretched thin before it snapped to his wrist with a pointed pop as he let go and made a fist. 

Jake couldn't look away from the impressive size of it, and the way the muscles in Brenner's arm rippled when he tightened his fingers. 

Dread and a hint of renewed arousal mingled in Jake's gut into a heady, queasy sensation, his spent, treacherous cock giving a shameful little stir. He tried to sit up, but Dodge put his hand on Jake's shoulders and forced him down again. "Ah, ah, ah. You ain't gonna go anywhere, son."

Brenner walked around Jake, standing between his legs again. A nasty grin stretched his lips as he opened his hand to flex his fingers. 

"Time for a cavity search."

End.


End file.
